10:45am Wed 05/12/99
The moment has arrived. I am finally in line to buy advance sale tickets to see Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace. My spot is just to the north of the intersection of High Point and D'Onofrio. It is a good distance away from the front of the line which snakes up the hill and past the parking deck. The crowd is in a great mood being that it is cold, windy, with a strong possibility of thunderstorms. I am greeted by most with a smile or a nod as I pass them toward the end. "Another one I'm in front of," they think, "another fool just like me." I set up camp. I've brought my folding soccer chair, an umbrella, and a bag with a few essentials: magazines, vanilla wafers, and a pad of paper. I am ready, the Force is with me. The doors open at 2pm.

10:50am
Already the spectacle begins. Two guys with plastic swords go at each other in the vacant lot next to the parking deck. The line borders this spot on two sides. We all have a good view. They made sure of that. They are dressed all in black, long chains attached to their belts keep their keys from running away. Slap, slap, it is slow, methodical mock combat. Six others join them, one woman. They are too obvious, trying to impress us. Fighting is stiff and very phony. From behind me in line comes the comment "I saw Braveheart last night. This just doesn't cut it."
Two others have splintered off and are using wooden poles with padding at one end. One of them gets a little too frisky. His weapon is taken away by the others.
 
"I saw some guy with his face painted like Darth Maul up by the front of the line."
 
I see only one person dressed in character. He is an Imperial Guard all dressed in red with a homemade mask.
"Now I'm totally disillusioned." The Imperial Guard starts smoking a cigarette. "That's the real reason the Empire lost."
 
"Look, it's Darth Pansy." about a guy dressed in a black cloak wrapped in a blanket for warmth.

11:00am
The line has grown by 30 people.
 
The man in front of me is very quiet. He hasn't said a word. Dressed in a red hooded sweatshirt with numerous Star Wars patches carelessly sewn on it, white sweatpants, green socks, jogging shoes with velcro straps. He is reading a how-to book about getting rid of consumer debt. I imagine him unmarried, spending all his money on action figures. My wife would never let me out of the house dressed like that, or even back in the house.
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People in line have already tired of the fighting show. Backs are turned away, books are brought out. The group, itself, has dwindled down to four from a peak performance of twelve.
 
A rumor has been passed back along the line that the theater will be selling tickets for all shows up to June 1. I wonder how many people will buy for multiple days.
 
"There's a guy with a website, rebelscum.com, building a Star Wars room. Everything is being custom made. He's like an engineer with tons of money. I'm going to ask him to send me the plans."
 
The wind has picked up a bit. I zip my jacket shut and pull my hat down.

11:10am
One of the sword fighters lights a cigarette. Show's over.

11:20am
We've moved. The line has condensed the spaces between each other. I hear it's because the tents at the front have come down. I'm now located just outside of the top entry to the parking deck. Now I can actually see the front of the line. It looks as if it is in a galaxy far, far away.
 
A cheer from the front half of the line. We stand to see what's going on. Port-a-potties have arrived. A truck with two of the tall blue compartments stops by the front of the line. The driver begins to unload them. Another cheer when both are in place. The driver is treated like a hero. Lines now form for these. I realize that now I can have something to drink and no longer worry about the inevitable.
 
A group of six or seven guys behind me have a friend deliver lawn chairs, jackets, blankets, Mountain Dew, and the best, a selection of supermarket tabloids. They keep us all entertained.
"Did you know Zorro didn't have a spanish bone in his body? He was actually Irish."
"Pretty Hairy Woman" reads a headline over a photo of Julia Roberts' armpit.
"Couple set record for longest smooch" of over 30 hours.
 
I'm handed a flyer for a hiphop band at the Mango Grill this friday night.
 
A kid passes us wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of the biggest pants I have seen. He could have easily fit into one of the legs. He believes himself to be very cool, when actually in this weather he looked very cold.

11:45am
I've been here for about an hour now. Things have settled into place a bit. Some people have gone and returned with lunch.
 
The red Imperial Guard is in line for the port-a-potties with his helmet on again damaging forever a wonderful image.

12:05pm
A van emblazoned with the logo for local radio station WIBA 101.5 arrives and begins to hand out free pizzas to the front of the line. There is a mad rush and their supply is quickly distributed. A cry goes up from my section of the line and behind. More are promised. I learn that they only had a few dozen.
 
Supposedly Channel 27 is here doing a live broadcast but I haven't seen them.
 
With the media arrival the swords, and a lot more plastic light sabres, have come out again. Mock fights break out all around me. I almost feel as if I'm at the center of the Resistance. Almost.
 
The 101.5 van has left. Quiet begins to descend once more.
 
People arrive steadily now. Just as I had thought, it's lunchtime. The surface parking is full.

12:20pm
A guy in camouflage pants and a black vest shouts out, "Free food." He carries a MacDonald's sack and begins to hand out cheeseburgers and hamburgers. He passes a lot of suspicious people until one boy takes one. Others quickly follow his example. They're gone soon. He bears no affiliation to any group or radio station. "We just bought too much," he says. The next thing I hear is "Dude, you eat yours first." Laughter.
 
The people from radio 101.5 are back. This time it's a mini parade. One at the front with a tape recorder is followed by a kid carrying a banner with the station ID, followed by another with a box for contest entries.

12:30pm
I learn the group behind are actually being paid to be in line. They are buying tickets for their entire company, Raven Software. That's 64 tickets they are buying. They are a very good natured group and very funny. Their company makes video games, violent games, and they are proud of it. "It's fun being in the middle of a witch hunt, especially if you're the witch."
A coworker pulls up in his car along side of us. Its license plates read "UU THE 44". Translated it is "Use the Force".
 
A woman from station 101.5 travels the line handing out Rocky Rococo coupons and bumper stickers for their station. By the time she reaches us she is out of the pizza coupons. She runs out only 5 people in front of me. I get two of the bumper stickers.

12:40pm
I have finished a piece of Rocky's pepperoni pizza. It was very good and very warm. True to their word the folks at 101.5 have returned once more. This time they began at the back of the line. I also entered their contest. At the blank that asks for my age I wrote "44, what's it to you". I feel a little guilty eating the pizza, I may have to listen to their radio station for a few minutes. Maybe not.
 
Employees of the theater come down the line. "Twelve tickets per person. No checks. Use cash, the credit card machine in running very slow." I say, "That's because George Lucas has to personally approve each credit card purchase." Laughter.
 
A kid in what appears to be a white choir robe hides a plastic light sabre up his billowing sleeve. He looks rather cheesy next to the red Imperial Guard.

12:55pm
All this talk of port-a-potties cause me to check one out.
 
Only one hour away. People are beginning to get more animated, anxious.
 
One of the guys from the software group tells of seeing a story on CNN about a woman with a large Star Wars action figure collection. "She had 250." "Dude, how many do you have?" "I looked in my cubicle alone and I have 167 there."

1:05pm
The Imperial Guard gets his picture taken with the 101.5 DJ holding the banner with the station ID. So does the choir boy. I guess they're hard up for promo material.

1:15pm
More media. Channel 15 arrives.
 
A couple walk a German Mastiff by the crowd. "It's 10 months old. We got it as a puppy for $1200." Someone behind me says, "Show-off".
 
A theater employee has some important news. Movie times for the theater with THX sound are 12:01am, 10:00am, 1:00pm, 4:00pm, 7:00pm, and 10:00pm.

1:30pm
Channel 15 films the guy in front of me asleep on the pavement. It might be shown at 5 tonight.
 
The line is longer now. I'm about midway now.

1:40pm
A Channel 3 cameraman walks the entire line filming at a low height. "He's getting the crotch shots." "We'll all see ourselves on the Internet tonight as well, at least our pants."

1:45pm
People begin to put away the chairs, folding, cleaning, consolidating. The line starts to squeeze. We're excited. The anticipation couldn't be cut with a light sabre.
 
There are jokes about rushing the place, getting up front at any cost. "An ugly crowd of geeks turns even uglier. Tonight on CNN. Parental advisory suggested."
 
A theater employee travels the line with a plastic trash bag. It is quickly filled.

2:00pm
A great cheer goes up, the doors have opened.
 
The first group through screams, raise their light sabres, and enter. A few moments later they exit, shrieking louder, jumping up and down, a small insignificant piece of paper held high above their heads. The first tickets. The line responds with polite applause. Jealousy increases as the line gets longer.
 
Channel 3 does the line shot but as he passes us someone from the software group behind me shouts "He has a tattoo". The cameraman looks up, interested, and comes back. "Let's see it. . . Whoa." A close-up of the tattoo, a bust of Darth Vader, extremely well done. His friends cheer.
After the Channel 3 reporter leaves their friend says "If you guys ever embarrass me like that again I'll kill you all." More laughter.

2:20pm
A theater employee has some disappointing news. "The 12:01 THX showing is sold out." Sighs and boos greet him from our location, still a good way back.
 
A loud conversation from the software group begins. It is for the benefit of those in line in front of us. "THX sucks!" "You know I read about a study that said THX sound causes cancer in laboratory animals." "I definitely want a regular theater in that case." Nobody falls for it. THX is the geek's choice.
 
"My son was having trouble in school getting the hang of negative and positive numbers. He just couldn't grasp the concept. So one day I sat him down and explained that positive numbers are like Obi-Wan and negative numbers are like Vader. Put them together and they cancel each other out. And he got it. It really worked. Now my wife uses that example in her class at school."
Ahhh, the power of the Force is amazing.

2:50pm
I'm standing 5 feet away from the doors. This is it. Now it is within my grasp. But what do I really want? Should I get tickets to a digital theater if I get to see it sooner and then see it again later in a THX theater? Should I go for THX now whenever? Troubling questions, indeed.
 
A sign over the door states that only 12 tickets per person, no checks, tickets are good only for the date and time printed on the ticket, and no one will be allowed in the theater until 30 minutes before show time.

3:07pm
I'm through the door. Victory is sweet. Obi wan, I have made it. My dilemma is settled for me. I say, "What's open for a THX theater on wednesday?" The clerk, a very pleasant young woman, says "10am or 1pm only. Everything else is sold out." "10am, 2 tickets." "$10, please."
 
$10 for 2 tickets. After all this wait, all this hype, all this anticipation, and only for $5 a ticket. For a moment I felt cheated. Only the day before I had put down $92 for two tickets to see Harry Connick Jr and I've never seen him a swing a light sabre. Ticketmaster should try to work a deal with Lucas for the next film. Think of what that "inconvenience charge" would be.
 
Two tickets pop up, she tears them in half and hands me the ticket stubs. There was nothing special about them at all. They're plain everyday movie ticket stubs. For a moment I'm reminded it's only a movie.
 
It passes.
There printed in bold black letters are the words, "STAR WARS'. Excellent. I laugh to myself as I carefully put them in my wallet, to bad about the midnight movie being full but I have tickets to the first daylight showing.
 
It's not a movie on that first day, it's an event. I'll be there with the other fools, my wife calls us, who stood in line for hours, enjoying the camaraderie, reveling in being geeks. Star Wars isn't just a movie, it's theater, a happening, the way we all want it to be, fighting tremendous odds, rescuing the princess, going where no man has gone before - oops, wrong movie - and defeating the ultimate evil. For a few hours, in a darkened room, we travel the universe. And perhaps in some small way the wonders of that world will make us search out and appreciate the wonders all around us in our own.
 
Now all I have to do is wait a week.